


It Was Perfect

by Anonymous



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Female Ejaculation, First Time, Fondling, Hand Jobs, Kissing, Oral Sex, Orgasm, Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:49:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29788752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: They might at any moment be attacked by giant spiders, buried under miles of rock in utter darkness, yet it hardly mattered. It could be now or never.
Relationships: Rowan Guerrin/Loghain Mac Tir
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4
Collections: Nobody Expects the Dragon Age Smutquisition





	It Was Perfect

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ziskandra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ziskandra/gifts).



They might at any moment be attacked by giant spiders, buried under miles of rock in utter darkness, yet it hardly mattered. Loghain’s large hands dug into Rowan’s shoulders with demoniac desire as she grabbed him by the buttocks and pulled him close. It could be now or never.

“Maker,” he breathed between a flood of kisses, “you cannot know how much I’ve wanted this...” Rowan laughed in spite of herself, tickled by the press of stubble just below her ear.

“I had some idea.” How many times had she caught his gaze lingering just a little too long? He drew away, and she could feel his hungry eyes upon her even in the black.

“Then tell me what I want to hear,” he demanded, cupping her face. “Tell me,” anguish crept into his voice, “you are mine.”

Rowan hesitated for a split-second. “I’m yours,” she said, and meant it.

He closed the gap between them with a measured frenzy, and kissed her—tenderly at first, then mounting in intensity until he bit her lower lip as hard as he dared. With one hand he wound his fingers through the short curls at the nape of her neck, while the other felt a nipple harden through her shirt, and pinched until she audibly inhaled, teasing like an archer finding the range.

Rowan pushed back, undoing his tunic. “Let’s see how you like it,” she purred, genuinely curious to discover. Running her hands across his chest she found his own nipples, small and stiff, and tweaked them both eliciting a sound of shock.

“Aha! I’m on fire,” he exclaimed, and so was she—flush with that warm ache, a tingling thrill that emanated from her core.

“How big are you?” Her hands drifted downward.

“Hm. Perhaps a finger over six feet?”

Rowan gasped dramatically. “Is the very serious Commander Loghain playing dumb?”

“Maybe I want you to spell it out for me.”

She struck him playfully on the shoulder. “How big is your cock?”

He shrugged and cleared his throat. “We never raised chickens.”

Rowan groaned and pressed her fingertips down the treasure trail of hair below his navel, cupping his crotch. He grunted, and she felt his swelling member twitch beneath his breeches like some restive snake. “No time for banter,” she whispered in his ear, nipping playfully at his lobe. Her fingers finally freed the buttons of his trousers, and greedily tunneled in. Rowan felt his body tense as she gripped his manhood, and heard his breath catch in his throat.

“Mm not quite six feet, but—” she gave a firm squeeze and started stroking, “it’ll do.”

Loghain’s hips began to buck in time to her movements. Her fingers slid his foreskin up and over the cockhead, then back down with a slight twist until it peeked out. _It’s like milking a cow, right?_ The man seemed lost in beastly pleasure, breathing heavily. She lifted her head from the crook of his neck and tried to make out his features in the dark.

“Tell me again,” she drawled, “how much you need me.”

He sucked air through tight lips. “Oh, Rowan,” he shuddered slightly as her hand ceased its work, “you make me want to howl…”

“Then tell me you need me,” she insisted.

“I need you.” It had the ring of an oath.

Rowan smiled in response, though it occurred to her he might not see it in the gloom. _Maker knows I need this_. She bent over his open trousers and tugged them down while he pulled the loose tunic over his head. Pressing in close, she inspected his splendid dick, wanting to take it all in—its size and shape, its heady musk and every bristling inch of detail. She ran a finger over the tip and drew a wet bead of precum on her skin. Curious, she raised it to her lips and tasted—salty, bitter, even a bit sweet.

“There’s more where that came from, I hope.” She swooped down on him and he let out another low groan. The power of her touch to excite these guttural sounds inflamed her passion, and she planted soft, sloppy kisses from his thick head down the length of his rigid shaft, then buried her face in balls. He writhed in delight as his cock heaved ever higher with each throbbing pulse.

“Rowan...” he sounded half-delirious, kissing and groping her all over with animal abandon. An uncomfortable chill made her suddenly conscious of having soaked her pants through with her own juices. It felt as though her whole body cried out in desperate yearning for release. Rowan contemplated taking his massive manhood in her mouth, but she doubted her ability. Perhaps, permitted the luxury of time—but the growing heat between her thighs demanded attention.

“Take me,” she cried.

“Are you ready?” he asked with a hint of concern. “I’ll be gentle…”

Rowan smirked. “Don’t.” It was her first time with a man, but she had prepared for eventualities using certain vine-growing vegetables. “Let me show you how ready I am...”

“Burning glory” he exclaimed after she guided his fingers to her hot sex. He laid her down on the bedroll and pulled her shirt open, nearly ripping the buttons free of their holes. His rough hands teased and cupped her breasts, caressed her belly then hooked under the top of her pants and jerked them down. Rowan whimpered as the cool air met her slick opening and reached her aching clit. Loghain tossed her breeches aside and spread her legs lewdly; with a breathy snarl, he bowed his head between her thighs and lapped like a thirsty hound.

“Mm—no,” she moaned and pushed him off, running a hand through his thick hair. After an hour of grinding and fondling, the direct stimulation felt like lightning.

“What’s wrong?”

“I want you in me, now!”

Loghain needed no more urging, but held his cock against her sopping wet sex; Rowan gasped as his swollen member parted her soft lips and forced its way into her slit. He haltingly exhaled as the head of his cock just barely pressed inside. Rowan’s toes were already curling; her legs trembled, her stomach tensed, and her jaw clenched at the pressure of his entry. She bit her lip, and shook her head from side to side in an effort to stay quiet.

“Does it hurt?”

“No… no, don’t stop!”

Loghain shifted and slowly thrust his hips in a cyclical motion, each time penetrating deeper and faster till he was pumping in and out with steady rhythm. “Oh Maker, you feel so good,” he whispered reverently. Rowan felt her pussy struggle to accommodate his girth, felt the veins of his meaty cock grate against her walls from every angle, felt her body grip him in a way that made him feel enormous. It sent shivers of pain and pleasure up and down her spine, a delicious feeling of being spread thin around him, stretched and gaping as he plunged in to the hilt and filled her completely.

“It’s so much,” she gasped. _Maker, I'll be feeling this tomorrow_...

“Oh fuck, it feels so good...”

“Yes—harder! Harder!”

She felt him grow even larger inside her. Seizing her roughly by the hip and shoulder he yanked her up and down upon his giant cock; the collision of their sex and his heavy balls slapping against her ass made a clapping cacophony. Rowan’s moans grew louder till they echoed off the cavern walls; when she moved a hand to stifle them, he grabbed her by the wrist. “No,” he growled against her neck. “Let them hear.” _He wants them to_... The thought alarmed and aroused her.

Waves of pleasure crashed over her and she forgot to breathe. Grinding and rocking her hips in time to his, the pressure overwhelmed her and Rowan’s whole body shook. She’d never come like this before—it felt like she needed to pee, but she had gone earlier; Rowan fought it as long as she could, but could hold no longer—she fell over the edge of ecstasy, erupting in quaking spasms, drenching his groin in gushing release.

“I-I’m coming,” Loghain stammered. He pulled out and blew great strings of his hot seed across her quivering flesh, the first spurt striking the rock behind her with a thudding splat. He sank into her arms and lavished her with kisses in the embrace of their sweet release before they toweled off.

Loghain was up for seconds but Rowan wanted rest. They lay face to face on the carved ground another hour or so until she drifted off to sleep, nuzzled in his broad chest.

* * *

Loghain sat in the dark a long while and thought about what had happened. He told himself that someone must stand watch, but this was only an excuse for sleeplessness. He would remember this day the rest of his life. For all he knew that might not be a long time.

 _Rowan_... turning her name over on his tongue like a canticle, he watched her breathing in the dim light. How long had he dreamed of this? Three years—oh, he could have waited a hundred.

But she was betrothed to Maric—and what’s more, she clearly loved the fool. No fit of passion would dispel her feelings, nor could he blame her. _Maker preserve us, I love him too_. He was a hard man to hate, but Maric’s flippant disregard for this amazing woman struck Loghain as nearly the most heinous of his sins.

 _Rowan_. Never had he wanted anyone more, but there could be no future for them. He needed no one else's consent to their liaison, but he would not endure to carry on a secret. She was meant to be a warrior queen, not a lowborn bowman’s woman. He might as well have been an elf like Katriel. “Take me,” she had said, and he had taken what was hers to give—what he could never hold. He might as well have taken West Hill Keep.

He heard the high-pitched moaning of his liege’s green-eyed mistress echo from the far side of the ruin. _Perhaps I'll try to rest after all_... When at last he nodded off, he dreamt of him and Maric and Rowan, the three of them together, carefree and joyful in the light of day, and far from the long shadow of dark thoughts.


End file.
